Torn
by Dranira
Summary: G1. Longing to belong... longing for answers... choosing sides isn't always easy, something Andromeda will soon learn.
1. Wounded

_Author's notes: This is my very first attempt at a Transformers fanfic (my first attempt at a fanfic at all to be honest). The story takes place during Generation 1, pre-movie. I've also decided to rate this story an M, since there will be adult themes__ later on in the chapters. At least I've warned you. _

_I would also like to give my beta reader, KayDeeBlu, a tremendous thank you for all her help and support. If it weren't for her, this story would never have been posted. We may live on different sides of this little planet called Earth, but I feel truly honoured to call her a dear friend and words cannot describe the gratitude and care I feel for her._

_Please feel free to leave a comment! I would be truly honoured to have your opinion on my story._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. Any other character mentioned in this story belongs to me and should not be used without my permission. _

_Summary: Longing to belong... longing for answers... choosing sides isn't always easy, something Andromeda will soon learn._

**Torn**

Chapter One

Surveying the damage their headquarters had sustained, Elita One sighed deeply. Violent gaping holes covered the walls. Burnt circuitry and melted wiring sizzled relentlessly.

She had designated Chromia the strenuous task of trying to bring the main frame online. But as the pink femme's optics scanned the war torn catastrophe once again, bringing _anything_ to even a powered on status was a lot easier said than done.

Elita One shook her head despondently. There was nothing more she could do, not right now at least. But the repair bay down the corridor was another story. Seeing how she might be of better help there, the femme started on her way.

Inside the repair bay, an emerald green Autobot stood. Large green wings complimented her physique along with the powerful jets mounted on her heels. Elita walked over to her, noticing the troubled expression spread on her face.

"How's the situation, Twilight?" she asked. The femme looked sadly at the female Commander.

"Not too good, I'm afraid," she said with a deep sigh. "As you can see, many of our soldiers have been damaged, some rather badly. I'll be able to repair most of us, but…"

Bewilderment came over Elita One. "But…" she said slowly, waiting for the medic to continue.

Twilight turned her head to the medical berth a few meters away from them. Sadly, Elita looked at the young femme lying motionless on the bed.

"Isn't there anything you can do for her?" Elita pleaded. Twilight looked sorrowfully at her and slowly shook her head.

"I know how much you care for the girl, but I am afraid her damages are beyond my knowledge. The explosion tore up almost her entire chest compartment. It's a miracle she's still alive."

Elita walked up next to the berth, seeing the fatally damaged figure up close. To prevent anymore life draining fluid from seeping out, the white and silver femme's upper body was heavily wrapped in a bandage of some sort.

Anguished lubrication welled in Elita's optics as she took the smaller hand in her own. She turned back to the medic again.

"Is there anything or _anyone _who can save her?" Elita asked.

Twilight hesitated for a few seconds. "There is one possibility, but it is very risky," the medic finally said.

"Well, what is it?"

"Ratchet might be able to save her… he has far more knowledge on this kind of injury than I do… but I'm not certain she'll survive the journey to Earth."

"If it'll save her life… I'll try anything… Optimus would never forgive me if I didn't at least take the chance. I can't just let her die." Elita stopped then, taking in a deeply, stressful breath. "Twilight, take care of her. Make sure she's ready to leave for Earth. I'll contact Optimus and see if there's a shuttle available."

"I understand, Commander," Twilight said, bowing her head slightly. "I shall accompany you to Earth and care for her during our journey there."

"Good," Elita approved. "Make sure someone else will take your place to attend to the injured while we're gone."

"Yes, Ma'am."

With that Elita turned on her heels and headed for the Control Room, worry written over her faceplate. She ducked to avoid some wiring hanging loosely from a part of the wall. It was crackling with small blue bolts of electricity emerging from the damaged cables.

Elita sighed to herself, walking faster. From the corner of her optic she saw Moonracer coming up fast behind her.

"Elita! Elita, wait!"

Stopping, Elita turned to face the young femme. "What, Moonracer?" she said with uncharacteristic impatience.

"I… I just wanted to know if you need any help," Moonracer said slowly, shrinking back from the older femme's annoyed stare.

Elita cringed slightly with guilt when she saw the hurt in Moonracer's optics. She hadn't meant to sound so harsh. Sighing she closed her optics. "I'm sorry, Moonracer, I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

"It's alright," the green femme replied. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"In fact there is," Elita said. "I need you to find a space shuttle that's still operational."

Moonracer raised an optic ridge. "A space shuttle?" she repeated.

"Yes. We're transporting Andromeda to Earth."

"But why?"

Exasperation fell from Elita then as she continued toward the Control Room. "I don't have time to explain, just find it will you? And please hurry."

* * *

Chromia put the welder aside and surveyed her work on the main computer. She had managed to repair most of the damaged circuits, but there were still some parts needing to be replaced. The blue femme stretched down her hand to remove some damaged wires. She carefully disconnected them and reached for the new ones she had in the toolbox placed next to her.

Yelping in pain as one of the new wires sent an electric shock up her right arm; Chromia dropped the tool she had been using. She shook her affected hand, a few choice Cybertronian curses coming out.

"I really do hate computers," she muttered to herself as she continued her work. Changing the motherboard, she tried restarting the system. _Nothing._ Another try. _Nothing. _The femme adjusted the lever again. Suddenly, a flash of lights flickered brightly.

"Is the main computer operating again?" Elita asked as she entered the room, walking up to Chromia.

"Affirmative, Elita," the blue femme answered, turning to face her. "We're online again – or at least temporarily."

"Excellent work, Chromia! Now, I want you to contact Optimus Prime on Earth."

Chromia looked a little puzzled at the order, but did as her Commander requested. She pushed a few buttons and activated the large screen. At first the only thing that appeared was static disturbance – a buzzing sound making the two femmes wonder if it was going to work.

A few minutes passed and still nothing. Closing her optics, Elita thought, _Primus please let this work_, her spark aching with despair.

The female Commander was lucky as it seemed their divine God heard her silent prayer. The two femmes looked up as the disturbance started to disappear. It was connecting. _It was working!_

Optimus Prime's familiar face looked back at them.

"You called, Elita," he said, distinguishable surprise in his tone. The worried expression on his beloved's face told him too much.

"Optimus," Elita said. "We have been attacked. Andromeda is badly injured. Our medics here can't do anything for her… so I've decided on bringing her to Earth instead."

Worried concern befell the Autobot leader. "Andromeda's been damaged?" he repeated. "Tell me Elita… just how bad is it? Will she survive the trip?"

Elita stared at the screen, fearful drops of liquid streaming down her cheek plates. "I don't know," she whispered. "All I know is that if anyone can save Andromeda now it's Ratchet."

"But can you make it to Earth in time? And what about the Decepticons? They most definitely will pursue and attack…"

"It's a risk I have to take!" Elita cried. Willful determination was dead set on her even as she noticed the distressing manner her spark mate was looking back at her with. Softly then, the femme said emotionally, _"I'm not going to let her die!"_

"I know, my love… I know…" Optimus responded solemnly. "Just be careful… and please… take care of Andromeda… I can't lose her too."

Elita nodded. "I know. I'll protect her no matter what."

A warm passionate glance from the Autobot leader was exchanged before the screen went blank. Elita closed her optics then. Placing both hands on the console, she leaned against at it for a moment.

Suddenly then, her shoulders felt the comforting hands of her best friend. Turning around, Elita read Chromia's deep concern then.

"I'm so sorry, Elita," Chromia said. "I know how much the girl means to you."

Elita took her friend's hand in hers. "Chromia, I trust you the most out of everyone here. Please, look after everything while I'm gone. I'll be back as soon as Andromeda is safe on Earth."

Chromia squeezed the pink femme's hand reassuringly. "Of course, you can count on me."

The two femmes smiled warmly at one another. Having been through so much turmoil and war, there was an unspoken understanding that didn't need to be said.

Hearing the rushing of footsteps coming toward them, Elita's sentimental attention was broken off as Moonracer approached. Eagerly, she told the Commander the good news: a shuttle had been secured for take off.

"Good job, Moonracer," Elita exclaimed and embraced the younger femme in sheer happiness. "Now hurry over to the repair bay and tell Twilight to get Andromeda ready. We leave immediately!"

* * *

Several cycles later Elita sat next to the injured young femme inside the space shuttle heading toward Earth. It had all gone surprisingly well; they had managed to leave Cybertron unnoticed with no trace hints of Decepticons following.

Elita looked down when she heard a soft moan. The white and silver femme stirred slightly, the light movement making her wince in utter pain.

"Easy," Elita said, trying to calm her down. "Don't move, you're badly damaged."

For the first time since the attack, the young femme opened her optics. Elita took her hand, holding it gently.

"E-Elita…" Andromeda stuttered out. Her face scrunched in pain as fluid trickled from the corner of her metallic mouth opening. Inhaled gasps of breath magnified the pain.

"Andromeda!" Elita cried out horrified. Immediately Twilight appeared by her side, trying to ease the femmes discomfort.

Desperation lunged forth. "Please Twilight! Please! Do something!" Elita cried.

"Try to hold her down!" the medic ordered as the young femme started moving painfully around on the berth. "…her movements could bring even more damage to her already critical state!" Twilight cried.

Elita placed both hands on her shoulders, using most of her weight to immobilize the femme easily. "Calm down, Andromeda! You're going to hurt yourself even more if you don't calm down!"

Ever so gently, Twilight removed the bandage. A vital fluid line had ruptured. Immediately she reached for her one of her tools and began soldering the fluid line together. Andromeda relaxed a little as the fluid stopped trickling from her mouth. But the medic and the Commander knew it wasn't _nearly _enough…_ not in the shape she was in…_

"This is bad, Elita…" Twilight stated, grave worry held the medic's words. "If we don't reach Earth soon… she's not going to make it…"

Andromeda inhaled another painful breath before passing out again. Silently, Twilight cursed herself at not being able to help the femme more, lowering her head as fluid formed steadily within her optics.

Elita clasped her hands together. The slightly _clinking_ echoed desperately throughout the ship.

"Oh, Almighty God Primus," she prayed. "Please hear my wish and save this girl. She's so young and still has so much to live for. I beg of you, please, spare her life."

"I see it! I see Earth!" Moonracer suddenly cried from the cockpit. "We're almost there!"

Getting to her feet, Elita ran over to Moonracer. There in front of them the large blue planet appeared.

"We made it…" she whispered, relieved. Never in all her life had she been happier to see anything as the sight in front of her now. She hurried over to the unconscious femme and gently caressed her face.

"Andromeda," she whispered. "We're almost there now. Don't worry; you're going to be alright."

* * *

Optimus Prime paced anxiously around the hall outside the repair bay. Ratchet and Wheeljack were still operating on Andromeda. It had gone five Earth hours and they still weren't done.

He sat down in a corner and hid his face in his hands.

"This is all my fault," he whispered to himself. "Oh Primus, is this the punishment for the sin I've committed? Is this the punishment I get for what I've done to Andromeda… for the secrets I've kept from her?"


	2. Past Present

_Author's notes: Okay, here it comes, chapter 2! Thank you so much for the beautiful reviews, they made me so happy! It's nice to know someone likes my story, up until now at least :) Oh, before I forget... In this chapter there will be a flashback, but I won't write them in italics since I think it's kind of hard on the eyes to read, espceially if they are long flashbacks. Instead I'll just write an A/N in every chapter that has a flashback. So I hope the ones reading this chapter will be able to understand which part is the flashback. Again, thank you KayDeeBlu, for all your help, support and friendship. I'm very grateful that fate brought us together :) _

_Please feel free to leave a comment, my writing can only improve with your help! :)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. Andromeda however, belongs to me and should not be used without my permission._

**Torn**

Chapter Two

Ten Earth hours.

Ten very, _very_ long hours.

After getting tired from pacing back and forth outside the repair bay for several hours, Optimus sat down in the chair Jazz had retrieved for him earlier, rubbing his closed optics. The incessant worrying was eating up his energy supplies.

A strong hand placed itself comfortingly on his shoulder. Looking up, Optimus met the concerned optics that belonged to Ironhide.

"Prime, you alright?" the old warrior asked softly. "You look exhausted."

"I'm fine," the Autobot leader answered lowly.

Solemnly, Ironhide looked at the repair bay door. "No word from Ratch?"

Sighing deeply, Optimus shook his head. "No."

Deep concern covered Ironhide's faceplate. The young femme's damage had clearly affected him. "Prime, I have to admit… the amount of damage Andromeda sustained was shocking. You think she's going to make it?"

Unsteady realism marked the Autobot leader's reply. "I don't know Ironhide… I don't know."

Silence fell over the two mechs as they waited for Ratchet to walk out and announce Andromeda's fate. Minutes passed before Optimus finally broke the stressed filled silence hovering above.

"Any signs of Decepticon activity detected?"

"Negative, Prime," Ironhide replied. "They're keeping a low profile it seems… for now anyways. Jazz sent Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to patrol the grid area."

Optimus nodded in approval. "Good. Make sure someone's constantly monitoring Teletraan 1 and…"

Ironhide raised his hands to silence the Autobot leader. "Don't worry about it, Prime. Jazz and Prowl are in complete control. They will take care of everything."

"Thank you, Ironhide," Optimus said gratefully, giving his old friend a look of appreciation before turning his optics toward the door again.

Ironhide smiled but his comforting expression slowly faded as he noticed the obvious exhaustion the Commander was exhibiting. "Prime, why don't you go and recharge? I can wait here if you want. It's no trouble…"

Optimus glanced at him. "No. I have to wait until Ratchet and Wheeljack finish repairing Andromeda. I have to know if…" He took a deep breath. "If she's going to… survive."

Suddenly, a quiet _hiss_ was heard as the repair bay door slid open. A very weary ridden Ratchet stepped into the corridor.

Optimus immediately rose from his seat. "Ratchet, how's Andromeda? Is she…?" he couldn't even finish the sentence.

"She made it through surgery. Wheeljack managed to replace her chest compartment," the medic informed, his voice heavy with tired strain. He wiped his red hands on a cloth, removing stains of fluid.

A relieved sigh made its way out of the Autobot leader. _She was going to be okay… she was going to survive…_

"Thank Primus…" he whispered.

"Don't get your hopes up just yet," Ratchet said gravely. "She's stable at the moment, but this kind of injury takes some time to heal. The following days are going to be critical, but I think she's going to make it."

The medic's customary caution drew a serious nod back from Optimus. Too many battle filled vorns had brought much sad awareness into judging the fate of such extensive injuries. "When can I see her?" Optimus asked quietly.

"Not now. She's going to need a lot of rest and I don't want everyone running around her. No one except Wheeljack and I are to see her until she wakes up." The white and red mech looked sternly at the Autobot leader. "Not even you, Prime."

Instinctively, the Autobot Commander started to protest but the medic folded his arms across his chest compartment, glaring defiantly. There was no fighting this one.

"Alright," Optimus said, raising his hands in defeat. "But I want you to inform me as soon as there is any change in her condition."

Ratchet nodded, offering a consoling hand onto the leader's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Prime," he said, his voice warmer. "I know you want to see her, but it's for her own good."

"I know," Optimus said softly.

"Now, I'm going to recharge…" the medic said. Scrutinizing optics fell upon the tall mech in front of him. "And I suggest you do the _same_, Prime."

Optimus and Ironhide watched the white mech as he walked down the corridor, heading for his quarters.

Ironhide turned to Optimus. Even though Ratchet's words had calmed the Autobot leader, he still seemed worried. "How do you feel, Prime?" he said softly.

"Relieved," Optimus said. "And yet petrified."

Ironhide patted him comfortingly on the back. "Hey, don't worry. She's made it this far, I'm sure she's going to be alright."

Checking his internal chronometer, he realized it was time for his patrol. "I have to go now, Prime. Duty calls," he said. "But I'm glad the girl's alright. If there's anything I can do…"

Optimus smiled at his old friend, appreciating his concern and his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Ironhide."

Smiling, the red mech nodded and Optimus watched as he moved down the corridor and disappeared out of his sight.

Optimus turned to look at the door to the repair bay one more time. He stood there a few minutes, just staring… wishing, hoping Andromeda would get better soon. The thought of her dying made his spark hurt in such agonizing pain it scared him.

_Ironic isn't it?_ He thought then. _I haven't seen you for millions of years and during all this time I've been thinking about you every single day, wanting to see you again. Now we've been brought together again… and I might loose you forever._

"I promised to protect you," he whispered. "I promised to always look after you and care for you. I know I failed you, Andromeda, but please… don't die."

Optimus was not much of a praying mech. Living through thousands of millenniums of war and suffering made you question the thought of any higher divinity, but now he figured he needed all the help he could get.

Silently, he sent a prayer to Primus, begging the divine God to forgive his sins and save Andromeda's life.

Glancing at the closed door one last time, he then turned with a deep, sad sigh and headed for his quarters for a much needed recharge.

* * *

Cybertron's night was calm. Luminous lights showered down on the eternal planet of night, the atmosphere glowing softly from the stars above. No unfamiliar sounds could be heard, just the routine traffic of mechanoids hurrying by, headstrong attempts at deafening the war taking hold of the planet.

But peaceful disguises were not adorning the sparkling sitting by the window in her quarters. Legs pulled up to her chest compartment, arms wrapped tightly around her knee joints, the fluid continued cascading down her small metallic cheek plates as she gazed at the distant stars. Excruciating pain ached throughout the little femme's spark.

She had been brought to a shelter along with other sparklings when she couldn't find her mother in the chaos. They never saw it coming. It had happened so very fast when the enemy attacked their headquarters a few solar cycles ago. An attack that took her mother's life.

'_It's a sacrifice all wars demand, my child. Even though the loss of a loved one brings physical pain, you must be strong and move on.'_

Her father's words overshadowed everything. Not even the life honouring ritual she had attended yesterday – her mother's lifeless body being sent into space to drift infinitely – could quiet the words her patriarchal caregiver had uttered so easily.

How can father be so strong? The sparkling couldn't understand it… none of it. Her father's stoic silence… how he didn't shed an ounce of fluid at her mother's funeral… could she ever find the same strength?

Hearing the door slide open as the light turned on, she quickly wiped her optics. The tall mech entering her quarters walked silently over to her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his faceplate emotionless.

The sparkling lingered with the answer. She knew he didn't want to talk about her mother. Turning to the window again, she whispered softly, "I was just looking at the stars, father."

The mech was silent. The fluid traces trickling down her face told the truth. He reached out to take the sparkling in his arms. "Time for you to recharge," he finally said.

Curling up against his chest compartment, his strong arms taking her in, she felt the safety only his embrace provided.

"I love you, father," she whispered.

Looking down at the small body within his arms, the mech watched her. The sparkling yawned. His creation… his beloved daughter… the little femme he and his bondmate had created…

With a rare show of emotions, he tenderly caressed her back and gently rested his chin against her rounded metallic helmet.

She was the only thing he had left now.

She had already gone into recharge mode as he gently placed her on the berth. He stopped in the doorway, his glance lingering…

It was the last time he would ever see her like this.

By this time tomorrow, she would no longer belong to him anymore.

--

The byway was unknown, at least to her. The femme looked curiously up at her father. They had been walking for some time. Where they were going, the sparkling wasn't quite sure.

"Father," she asked, pulling the hand she was holding on to. "Where are we? Where are we going?"

Her creator continued walking, not looking at her. "We are going to meet someone."

"Who?" the sparkling asked.

"No one you know – yet."

The little femme looked questioningly at the silent mech, his face – as usual – emotionless. Why wouldn't he tell her anymore?

Anymore pressing questions were abruptly forgotten. The sparkling's optics widened at the large oval shaped structure appearing in the distance, its golden dome spanning upward forever.

"Look, father, look!" she cried in childlike excitement. "It's so pretty!"

The mech didn't answer and when she looked at him, she saw the harsh expression on his faceplate. Slowly, her smile faded. Desperately she clung to his hand. Frightened jolts ran through her.

"Father?" she whispered, but the mech ignored her.

They stopped when the byway suddenly ended in front of them, distancing them from the dome. Her creator straightened himself up proudly and a look of superiority emerged on his faceplate.

The femme clung to his hand as an extendable bridge coming from the dome moved toward them, granting them entrance. Without a word the mech started to walk over the bridge, his sparkling close after him. A tall, imposing mech was waiting for them at the pathway's end.

"Who's that?" the sparkling asked curiously.

Bitterness seeped within her father's reply. "That's your mother's co-creation. In other words, your uncle," he answered.

The sparkling's optics widened. "My uncle?" she repeated, glancing bewildered at her father and then back at the other mech.

Her father squeezed her small hand slightly, stopping as the other mech started to walk toward them. "He's… he's going to take care of you from now."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"It means… you're going to stay with him from now on," her father said, keeping his optics down so she wouldn't see them.

The femme gasped. She stared at her father in disbelief. Father… he was leaving her? She tugged wildly at the hand holding hers. Clear fluid rushed immediately from her optics. "Why father? Why?!" she cried. "I want to stay with you! I don't want to go with him! I want to stay here!"

The mech avoided meeting his daughter's panic filled optics. "You'll be safer here. Your uncle will take good care of you," was his firm reply.

He let go of her hand and began to walk away.

_This was what __his bondmate would have wanted…_

_T__his was his ultimate sacrifice…_

"No! Father, please, don't leave me!"

…_the most loving thing he could do to her…_

"Don't go! _Father!!_"

She was no longer part of his life. The only thing he could do now was try to forget about her, forget about everything.

Ignoring the pleading cries from the sparkling, seeing her being led away by the mech who greeted them silently, he knew… deep down… that was impossible.


	3. Waking Up

_Author's Notes: Well here goes, chapter three! I hope anyone reading it will like it and thank you for the beautiful reviews! Again, thank you, KayDeeBlu, for everything. Love ya, darling :D_

_Please feel free to leave feedback, wheter it be negative or positive, my writing can only improve with your help! :)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. Andromeda however, belongs to me and should not be used without my permission._

**Torn**

Chapter Three

_A mech__._

There was always a mech around her. He was always there by her side. And occasionally, another mech as well.

She was never alone. Even though she couldn't see them, their familiar presence was _there_ – voices… warm, whispering encouraging words…

She wanted to open her optics, she wanted to get up, but she couldn't. _How long had she been here?_

Someone was caressing her cheek.

_Pain__…_ excruciating pain… everywhere…

She wished she could squeeze the hand that had been holding hers, she wished she could speak to him, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't. _Oh, Primus, the pain! Please, make it stop! Make it go away!_

Something happened; the mech did something to her. The pain slowly faded. Oh, how she wished she could see his face!

The pain was still too much, she needed a little more time. But soon. Very soon…

The comforting hand holding hers disappeared, but she wasn't afraid.

She was never alone.

* * *

Ratchet reached for the cloth lying on his desk. A laser scalpel lay in front. Carefully, he picked it up, smiling slightly. The up close inspection found it to be perfectly clean.

Reaching for his arc-welder, the medic's optics traveled across the repair bay and over to the large white curtain separating part of the room.

The monitor's soft beeping could be heard, its sound telling the medic everything was still alright.

Gently wiping the arc-welder and then reaching for another tool, the medic kept his optics on the white drape.

The white curtain was a barrier – forbidden territory – even though the twins had tried several times to access without any success. Restricting all access to the repair bay was something Ratchet had realized he couldn't enforce. But if there was some measure of privacy where she could recover in peace, he was going to make certain she received it.

He closed the box holding his newly cleaned tools. He sighed deeply. "Four days…" he whispered to himself.

Walking over to the curtain, he gently pulled it back and peeked inside. The femme lay motionless on the berth, the monitor she was connected to showing all vital outputs as being normal. _Four_ tedious days had come and gone – and still she hadn't woken up. Ratchet was more than nervous about it. He was _worried._

With another soft sigh, Ratchet let the curtain drape down. He walked back to his desk. Slumping down in his chair, he leaned back, glaring at the stack of reports needing to be written. Prowl had been nagging him and he knew the military strategist would soon hunt him down if he didn't get the slaggin' things turned in soon.

Grabbing one of the reports, the medic set off to work.

_Infirmary Log File 96BT54._

_Patient: Ironhide_

_Existing Pre Conditions: N/A_

_Presenting Ailment: Minimal damages sustained to the..._

Even though Ironhide's injuries hadn't been too serious, a report still needed to be written – just like everything else that happened inside the repair bay – including the next report involving the twins. With the exception of Wheeljack (whose nasty habits of having experiments explode in his face never failed), the twins were _always_ seeing the inside of the repair bay one way or another.

And as Ratchet finished detailing their injuries from another session of their so called "jet judo", he checked his internal chronometer, not even realizing he'd been working on the reports for three Earth hours.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his blue optics. "I hate reports," he muttered to himself.

Straightening up, he continued. There weren't that many left. Knowing the high-grade energon cube that awaited him afterward, he encouraged himself to press on.

"There!" Ratchet said triumphantly as he finished the last one. He gathered all the reports and headed for the door. "Now I won't have Prowl chasing after me for a few days."

The door slid open with a hiss. And as he eagerly headed down the corridor to the Control Room, the weak gasp of the femme slowly coming back online escaped his audio sensors…

* * *

"Here Prowl… now you have them," Ratchet said, uncharacteristic cheerfulness in his voice as he placed the stack of reports on the strategist's desk.

Prowl looked at the pile of reports and then back at the medic, his faceplate stoic as usual. "You _actually_ finished them."

Ratchet's cheerful grin turned upside down. "What? You thought I wouldn't?"

"I didn't say that," was the calm reply. The black and white mech grabbed one of the reports, eyeing it in silence.

Ratchet glowered at the strategist, ready to throw out a chiding remark in return, but decided to let it go, remembering the cube of high-grade that was so close…

Turning on his heel and heading for the door, the medic stopped when Prowl called his name.

"What?" Ratchet asked annoyed. The black and white mech didn't seem to notice – or care – about the irritated tone in his voice.

"How's Andromeda doing?" Prowl asked.

Ratchet turned slightly. "She's stable. Her vitals are fine."

Prowl's faceplate remained emotionless. "She hasn't woken up yet?"

"No, not yet. But it should be any day now."

"What are you going to do when she wakes up then?"

Ratchet turned around to completely face the strategist, frowning. "What are you implying, Prowl?"

Prowl's optics narrowed. "You know _perfectly well_ what I'm implying, Ratchet."

"When she wakes up, it's up to Prime to decide what will happen to her," the medic said, glaring.

Prowl's faceplate softened slightly. "Don't look at me that way, Ratchet," he said. "I'm not the bad guy here, but you know as well as I do she shouldn't be here."

Ratchet looked silently at the black and white mech. "As I said," he finally spoke, his voice calm and indifferent. "It's _Prime's_ decision."

Then he left the Control Room.

* * *

Slowly… ever so slowly the femme came online again. A soft gasp emerged from her slightly parted lips.

Struggling to activate her optics, they finally opened, revealing a pair of blue optics. Blinking slowly a few times while waiting for her CPU to completely start up, the femme stared up at the orange ceiling.

"Where…" she whispered, her voice almost inaudible. "Where am I?"

* * *

Ratchet leaned back in one of the chairs in the common room, merrily sipping on his energon cube. Relishing the feeling of the high-grade energon and finally being able to relax for a few minutes, the medic smiled.

Jazz watched him, flashing his famous lopsided grin. "You seem to be in a good mood, Ratch," the cheerful saboteur said.

"It's just nice to finally be able to relax," Ratchet answered.

"You've been pretty busy lately, huh?" Jazz asked, taking a sip from his own cube.

Placing the cube on the table, Ratchet looked at the shiny pink fluid. "Yes…" he whispered.

"You're thinking of Andromeda? How's she doing?"

"She's stable. The only thing I'm worrying about is the fact that she hasn't woken up yet. It's been four days, she should have woken up by now…"

Jazz watched him silently as the medic's faceplate turned sad. "Hey, Ratch," he said, extending a comforting pat on his hand. "You've done everything you can for her. Heck, when she was brought here I thought she was beyond repairing. But as you said, she's stable now. Give her some time, Ratchet. I'm sure she's gonna pull through. Just give her some time."

Ratchet looked gratefully at the saboteur. Jazz had always been a positive Autobot. He radiated optimism and cheerfulness, and always knew how to make a fellow Autobot feel better. It was no wonder why everyone liked him so much.

"Thanks, Jazz," he said, his voice a lot more cheerful now.

"No problem, Ratch." Jazz raised his cube. "Cheers!"

Raising his own cube, the medic gently knocked it against Jazz's, smiling widely. "Cheers."

Smiling back, Jazz took a large sip from his cube. Swallowing the last of the energon, Ratchet rose from his chair and went to throw the empty cube in a trash can before turning to the saboteur.

"You headin' back to your quarters?" Jazz asked, emptying his own cube.

Ratchet nodded. "Yes. I'm just going to check on Andromeda one more time before I go and recharge."

"Okay. See ya later then."

The medic gave a small wave and then headed toward the repair bay. Walking down the corridor the medic met several Autobots heading toward the common room. And from what Ratchet quickly learned from a hurried Hound passing by, the twins were planning another one of their famous homebrewed energon parties.

Needless to say, Ratchet was glad he left the common room in time.

The doors slowly slid open as he entered the repair bay. As soon as the door closed, he tensed. _Something was different._ Looking around, Ratchet's optics searched for any Autobot who might have snuck in without his permission.

But there was no one inside except for himself and Andromeda. The medic scratched the back of his helmet. "Maybe it was just my imagination… or maybe it's the energon," he muttered to himself.

But then he heard it… the soft, almost inaudible sound coming from behind the white curtains…

Ready to scold whoever had snuck inside, Ratchet walked slowly to the curtain, his hand pulling it aside. But whatever scolding was supposed to take place immediately vanished as a pair of blue optics met his.

Ratchet stared at the femme seemingly just as surprised as he was.

A glint of recognition appeared in her blue optics. "R-Ratchet…?" she finally managed to stutter, her voice barely above a whisper.

Immediately the medic was at her side. "Andromeda," he said, his vocalizer trembling as he took the small hand in his own and squeezed it gently.

"W-Where am I?"

"You're on Earth," Ratchet answered.

Frightened confusion spread across her face. "Earth?" she repeated.

"Yes, Elita One brought you here four days ago. You were badly damaged from an attack on your headquarters," the medic explained.

She stared at him as her CPU struggled to take in his words. Ratchet quickly pulled out a scanner from his subspace. Carefully he started examining her.

"All systems are functioning," he said, mostly to himself as he put the scanner back in its subspace. He looked down at her. "How do you feel, Andromeda?"

"I… I feel… operational… I guess," she answered slowly. "It still hurts… but not as much as earlier."

Ratchet nodded, pleased with the answer. "That's good to hear. Now, if you just lay back, I'll run some more tests on you and give you something for the pain."

The femme could only nod as she closed her optics, a deep, tired sigh emerging from her lips.

* * *

Optimus walked rapidly down the corridor toward the repair bay. He had been in his quarters when Ratchet radioed him through the com link, requesting the Commander's presence in the repair bay.

Stopping outside the door, Optimus closed his optics and drew a deep breath as if gathering strength. Breathing out, he opened his bright blue optics and then entered. Walking inside he looked around, trying to spot the medic.

When hearing the medic's voice coming from behind the white curtains he walked over to them. Slowly pulling them aside, the Autobot leader stared at the sight in front of him.

She was sitting up on the berth, Ratchet holding one arm around her shoulders to support her and the other to help her drink from the energon cube she held in her small, graceful hands. She finished the cube and then leaned her head against his chest, closing her optics tiredly.

Ratchet looked up when Optimus moved closer. The medic smiled widely at him, looking back down with tender optics at the femme leaning against his chest compartment.

"Andromeda…" Optimus finally said, his vocalizer trembling with emotion.

The femme blinked before slowly turning her head toward him. A smile of recognition crept upon her lips. "Long time no see…" she whispered. "…uncle."


	4. Days Long Gone

_Author's Note: Okay, time for a new update! This chapter will be shorter than the others (sorry!), but hopefully whoever's reading this will like it anyway :D Thank you so much for your kind words and beautiful rewievs on my other chapters! Feedback is always highly appreciated, I can only improve with your help. As always, I'd like to give thanks to my wonderful beta reader and friend, KayDeeBlu. Lots of love to you, Kim! :)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. Any other character mentioned in this story belongs to me and should not be used without my permission. _

**Torn**

Chapter Four

The laughter of sparklings.

Innocent, happy laughter – laughter that still hadn't been destroyed by the war they had been created into.

The sky blue mech smiled slightly to himself as he watched his creation and his two friends play outside of their headquarters.

It was very dangerous for sparklings to be outside. Enemies lurked everywhere but today the mech had decided to bring them outside, if only for a little while. They deserved to have at least a small amount of freedom in this time of war.

The blue flier was soon accompanied by another flier. "Hello, Darkshadow," he said calmly as the mech stood by his side.

The black flier grinned at his wingmate. "Hello, Skywing." He looked over to the three sparklings, his optics locked on the black sparkling – his creation – as they ran around, obviously playing tag. Keeping his sensors keen for any enemies that might be hiding close by, he glanced around.

The blue flier was calm as usual. "Calm down, 'Shadow. There aren't any enemies here."

"You never know, 'Wing," he retorted. "I'm not gonna let anyone of those pieces of slag hurt my creation."

Skywing glared at him. "And you think I'm going to let them hurt mine?"

Darkshadow glared back at him, but a sudden noise made them both turn their attention back to the sparklings.

The silvery femme had suddenly tripped when chasing the two male sparklings and had fallen faceplate first onto the ground. Sitting up, she was quiet at first but as the two fliers saw her little faceplate start scrunching up, they knew. Sure enough, within an astroclick it seemed, she started crying.

Immediately the other two sparklings kneeled by her side, the blue one stroking her helmet trying to comfort her. "Don't cry," he said comfortingly.

She looked at him, fluid running down her cheek plates. "But it hurts!"

Reaching out a hand and gently wiping the fluid away with his small fingers, the blue sparkling smiled. "I know it hurt, but you're strong. You can take it."

Sniffing, the femme looked seriously at him and nodded. She wiped away the rest of the fluid with the back of her hand.

"I'll give you a piggyback ride," the black sparkling offered, reaching out a hand toward her. Smiling widely the little femme took his hand and he helped her up.

The two fliers watched amused how the black sparkling ran around with the femme clutched onto his back, her happy cries mixing with his laughter.

"You know something, 'Wing," Darkshadow said, optics still on the sparklings. "I think our sons are gonna grow up to be good mechs."

Looking at the blue sparkling, Skywing smiled with pride. "Yes, they most certainly will."

They both turned around when soft footsteps were heard approaching them from behind. They both bowed their heads in respect as their leader's bondmate walked up to them.

"Selene," Skywing greeted her.

The femme smiled at the two mechs. "Hello, Skywing, Darkshadow."

"Milady," Darkshadow said, a tone of respect and admiration in his voice.

"I hope you don't mind me taking the sparklings outside," Skywing said when she watched the silvery femme. "I know I should have asked for permission to bring your daughter outside, but…"

"No need for explanations, Skywing," she interrupted him softly. "She probably begged you to take her with you."

Scratching the back of his helmet, the blue flier grinned sheepishly at her, making her giggle. Looking back at the sparklings, a warm smile emerged on her lips.

"It's so rare to see them like this," she whispered. "It almost makes me feel like there isn't a war. I wish… I wish it could be like this forever…"

The two fliers noticed how her smile slowly faded and a sad expression spread across her silvery faceplate.

Skywing watched the snow white femme silently. He had never met a femme like her before. She was beautiful, perhaps one of the most beautiful femmes he had ever seen. Kind and forgiving, she possessed a warmth few ever knew.

And because of that she was hated among their own kind.

Darkshadow placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Selene," he said. "This war will be over soon."

Her blue optics had never been filled with so much sadness as when she looked at him then. "I know," she whispered. "In a way that hurts me even more."

Skywing's spark ached for her. Knowing her endless sadness, the turmoil inside her spark; the blue flier didn't feel anything else but sympathy for her.

Both Skywing and Darkshadow knew how much she had suffered, how she was still suffering, from the decision she had taken so long ago. When she had been rejected, detested by their own kind. They only accepted her out of fear – fear of their leader's wrath.

But there was light in the darkness. As time passed, some of their kin slowly learned to appreciate her – Skywing and Darkshadow being two of them – and in time she had gained their respect and affection.

The three sparklings suddenly came rushing towards them, having grown tired of chasing each other around. The femme bent down and took her sparkling in her arms. The silvery little femme threw her small arms around her neck, hugging her tightly.

She slowly rose and held the little girl close to her chest compartment, turning to face the two fliers. "Thank you," she said. "For doing this for my daughter today."

Skywing smiled widely, his own sparkling coming beside him to hold his hand. "No problem."

Darkshadow grabbed the black sparkling and suddenly lifted him up in the air, placing him on his broad shoulders, making his son laugh happily.

Smiling at them, the femme then turned around and started to walk towards their headquarters, the two fliers and their sparklings following.

Indeed she was both hated and loved, Skywing thought to himself as he watched the white femme. But maybe that wasn't such a big surprise.

After all, she hadn't always belonged among them.

_She used to be one of the__ir enemies. _


	5. Among Friends and Foes

_Author's Notes: It's been a while since my last update, but I'm blaiming the dreaded writer's block that's been getting to me recently. I haven't written much for a long time now, but I figured I might get some inspiration back if I update with another chapter. Hopefully it will work. Thanks for the wonderful reviews, I truly hope you'll like this chapter as well. Thanks again, Kim, for all your help and support. Oh, and before I forget... I realized something after posting chapter 4 and that is that my character Darkshadow has many resemblances with Dreamchylde's character Stealthshadow from her story Young Turks. I immediately PM:ed her about it and told her the truth, it was purely coincidental and I never meant to steal anything from her, especially not when she's one of the writers I admire the most here on . I just wanted everyone to know._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. Any other character mentioned in this story belongs to me and should not be used without my permission. _

**Torn**

Chapter Five

Andromeda watched the scanner travel across her metallic body, mostly focusing on her chest compartment.

She turned her head to the side, looking at the monitor showing her vitals. So far everything seemed normal. Ever since waking up, internal systems had finished repairing all remaining injuries her structure had taken – including a malfunctioning navigational system that was now working perfectly well.

She turned her optics to the white mech holding the scanner. Now for the hard part: convincing Ratchet she was alright.

Retracting the scanner, the medic examined the results on the monitor and then nodded in silence, obviously pleased with the result.

He smiled at her. "Everything's in order. All systems are operating perfectly!"

Andromeda stretched an outward hand to him as he helped her sit up. "You know…I've could have told you that myself to spare you the time," she replied dryly.

Immediately the medic's smile turned upside down. "You almost died, Andromeda," he scolded. "Being a medic yourself, you should know someone with such extensive injuries as yours has to be monitored until it's certain your systems won't fail. It's only been three days since you woke up. I want to make sure everything's alright."

"Yeah, three days of nothing but lying here," she muttered. "The only thing that might possible kill me now is boredom."

Ratchet's optics narrowed. "Andromeda…"

"Okay, okay," Andromeda said, holding her hands up apologetically. "I'm sorry, Ratchet. And you're right… as a medic I should know better."

Ratchet eyed his former apprentice closely. A suspicious frown emerged as he crossed his arms over his chest compartment. He had been her mentor for millions of years and knew almost all there was to know about her. One thing was for certain. She _never _apologized unless absolutely necessary. And certainly not _that _fast.

He could still remember it, instructing her on a knee joint replacement back on Cybertron when she was still an apprentice. The mech they were treating hadn't been very nice to her earlier, so she intentionally didn't finish the job properly. The mech didn't even get a chance to step out of the repair bay before his knee joint fell off his leg. It took almost three solar cycles to get her to admit what she had done and apologize to the mech. Of course, it hadn't been done voluntarily.

"What do you want?" Ratchet asked, exasperated.

A mischievous glint appeared in her blue optics. "What do you think? I want to be discharged of course."

"Out of the question!"

"But Ratchet!" she complained. "You know just as well as I do I'm perfectly fine. My systems have been operating at full capacity ever since I woke up, except for the navigational system, but that's fine now. There are no signs indicating they'll fail. If there was I would've been dead by now. As a medic, _you_ should know that."

Ratchet glared, the femme glowering back. The worst part was knowing she was right. Sighing deeply in defeat, he closed his optics. Opening them again he smiled sadly at the younger femme.

"I know…" he said softly. "It's just… you almost died and… I'm worried."

The expression on her faceplate softened. She took his red hand. "I'm sorry for worrying you, Ratchet," she whispered.

Ratchet squeezed her hand gently. "I'm just glad you're alright," he answered lowly.

Helping her off the berth, it all came rushing back. He had never forgotten her, but a four million year absence could make you forget a thing or two. She was taller than he remembered though, slightly taller than he was. Silver and white plating shimmering in the light, helmet delicately rounded, her structure was like most Transformer femmes, slender and more sleekly curved than that of regular mechanoids.

She had been rebuilt into her fully developed structure only a vorn before their departure from Cybertron so long ago, but Ratchet's strongest memories were those of when she was still a sparkling.

So watching her now overwhelmed him. There was no sign of the sparkling he once mentored.

Feeling his gaze, she looked into his optics, a confused smile on her lips. "What?"

Ratchet flinched, the sound of her voice bringing him back into reality. "I was just thinking," he stuttered embarrassed, "…how much you've changed since I last saw you."

A wide, playful grin spread across her lips. "Yeah, far from the youngling you used to guide, huh?"

Ratchet smiled, the sadness in his optics unavoidable. "It's hard to believe…" he said softly, "…that you're not a sparkling anymore. It feels just like yesterday when I was assigned as your mentor."

Andromeda laughed warmly. "Yeah… I know what you mean. It's almost scary how fast time passes." She looked up at his familiar faceplate, fluid forming in her optics. "I've really missed you, Ratchet…" she whispered.

Extending a hand, he gently wiped the fluid away. "I've missed you too," the medic answered.

Andromeda laughed again, this time slightly embarrassed. "Well," she said, "…this was nice, but the question still remains… are you going to discharge me or what?"

Chuckling softly, the medic shook his head. "Yes, you're free to leave."

Grinning practically from audio to audio, Andromeda headed toward the door. "Thanks, Ratchet!" she shouted over her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" the medic asked.

Stopping in front of the doors, she turned to face him. "To see my uncle of course. I need to know how soon they can ship me back to Cybertron." The doors slid open and after giving a cheerful wave, she disappeared out of his sight.

Ratchet stared at the doors as the closed, a frown of worry on him. _Oh, Andromeda,_ he thought. _You probably won't see Cybertron again for a long time…_

* * *

More than half a cycle later, quickly realizing that asking Ratchet to show her around first would've been the smart thing to do, or at least, give her directions, Andromeda wandered down one of the Ark's corridors. Not quite expecting the size of the Autobot earth headquarters, she was now lost.

_This place is huge!_ Was the irritably amused thought as she suddenly found herself in the corridor of the Autobots' personal quarters. _I'm never going to find my uncle at this rate!_

Looking around herself, Andromeda huffed. Of course there were no mechs around when she needed them. Placing her hands on her hip plates she closed her optics, letting out a frustrated growl. _I really can't wait to get back to Cybertron. _

"What are you doing?"

The sudden curious voice coming from behind made her jump. Barely able to hold back the scream threatening to emerge from her vocalizer, she spun around, face to face with an old friend she hadn't met in a very long time…

"Bluestreak!" she cried happily, throwing herself at him. The young gunner smiled widely, catching her in his arms.

"Hi, Andromeda!" Bluestreak laughed. Lifting her up, he twirled her around for a few astroclicks before setting her back down on the floor again.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, Blue!" Andromeda said, pulling apart from him then. "And look at you!" She studied him, flashing a warm smile, indicating she liked what she saw. "You look great! Very handsome."

If blushing was possible for a Cybertronian, it would've been done fiercely then and there. "You really think so?" the gunner said shyly, rubbing the back of his helmet embarrassed. "I mean, I think I look alright, maybe not as handsome as Jazz or Prowl but I don't think I ugly either…"

Andromeda laughed. "How I've missed that motor mouth of yours!" she said.

"I've missed you too, Andromeda," he said, a shy smile still on him.

"What are you doing here by the way?" the femme asked, surprise in her tone.

"I live here silly!" Bluestreak giggled, pointing a finger at a door with his nameplate on it. "I just got back from patrol and thought I'd go to my quarters to relax for a while. That's when I saw you standing here."

"Oh."

Shooting her a curious glance, Bluestreak shifted his weight somewhat. "What are you doing here by the way?" he asked. "Shouldn't you be in the repair bay?"

"Nope. I finally managed to convince Ratchet to discharge me," Andromeda answered, a wide smirk filling her.

"So you're okay now?"

Andromeda nodded. "Yeah, I'm perfectly fine."

Genuine joy appeared in Bluestreak's optics. "That's a relief," he said cheerfully. "We were really worried about you!"

She patted his shoulder gratefully. "Thanks, Blue," she said. "And to answer your question as to why I'm here… I'm searching for my uncle but since this place is so fragging huge, I'm now completely lost!"

"I can help you search for him if you want… give you a little sightseeing around the Ark… if… if you want…" he replied.

Surprise and relief overcame her. "Really?"

Bluestreak nodded. "Sure."

"You're a lifesaver, Blue," she said warmly.

A smile that seemed to go from audio to audio emerged on the young gunner. He nodded enthusiastically as they headed down the hall.

"So, tell me, Blue," Andromeda asked as they walked along. "I haven't seen you for millions of years, how have you been?"

Bluestreak sighed sadly, an absentminded expression on his faceplate. "Nothing's really changed… except for the fact we're here on Earth instead of Cybertron of course. The war still continues… the suffering continues… the mechs and femmes we love and care about are still getting hurt…"

"I know, Bluestreak…" Andromeda replied softly.

For the briefest moment the shocked and terrified little sparkling she had met so long ago was in front of her optics. Andromeda still remembered that day when they first met. He had been brought to Autobot Headquarters as the only survivor from the attack on his hometown. At that time she hadn't been much older than him, just a tiny sparkling.

Seeing the sadness in his beautiful blue optics, her spark ached as solemn mournful words touched her audios. "I just wish this war will be over soon…" he whispered.

"It will, Blue," Andromeda reassured him, smiling encouragingly. "Just hang in there and it'll be over before you know it, maybe not tomorrow… but soon… no war ever lasts forever."

The young Autobot smiled back, cheered up slightly by her genuineness. "Thanks, Andromeda."

She winked at him. "No problem," she said cheerfully, glad the gloomy moment had passed. A large door came into view then, loud noises coming from inside.

"Well then, where are we now?" she asked.

"That's the common room," Bluestreak answered as they stopped outside the door. "As you can hear, it's often rather rowdy."

"Just the way I like it," Andromeda joked. The young gunner laughed.

Continuing further down the hall, they reached another door, this one much bigger.

"Here we have the Command Center," Bluestreak explained. "We'll probably find Prime in here."

The door slid open with a quiet hiss as the two Autobots entered. Andromeda smiled at the sight of the Autobot saboteur who was the first to greet them.

Jazz's smile was just as wide as he walked over to them. "Andromeda!" he said cheerfully. "Ratch finally let you out, huh?"

"Yep," she answered, grinning. "Took a little persuasion, but he finally gave in."

Cliffjumper suddenly appeared at Jazz's side. "I bet you threatened to tear his spark out if he didn't let you out," he muttered, glaring up at her.

Andromeda frowned at the sight of the minibot. For as long as she could remember that nasty little Autobot had hated her, and even after all this time, she still hadn't figured out why. Not that she cared anyway. Fondness had never been a sentiment extended to him. But it still annoyed her.

Forcing a smile, she reached down, patting him on the head in the most condescending way. "Come on now, Cliffjumper," she cooed so sweetly it was almost sickening, at least to her own audios.

Bluestreak and Jazz exchanged worried glances, Cliffjumper looking like he was about to explode.

"Why, you…" Cliffjumper began, fists balled so tightly they started shaking.

"Shouldn't you pick on someone your own size?" she sneered, looking down on the red minibot who hardly reached up to her waist.

The attempt Cliffjumper made at lunging toward her was interrupted when Optimus walked over to them. "That's enough, both of you," he scolded, making both cringe noticeably. Cliffjumper hurried back to his work along with the others as Andromeda stared at her uncle, wondering if he really was mad at her.

But when he stretched his arms toward her, everything was okay. She rushed over to him. Throwing her arms around his waist, she looked up into his beloved face. "Hi, uncle!" she greeted, an admiring tone in her voice.

Optimus caressed her helmet lovingly. "Hello, Andromeda," was the soft reply. "It's good to see you doing so well."

"Thanks," she said. Taking a few steps backward, the femme's face turned serious. "Uncle, I want to talk to you."

Curious, Optimus took a deep breath in and then gave his niece his full attention. "Okay," he said slowly. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Andromeda smiled. "I just wanted to know when you can send me back to Cybertron."

Optimus' mouth fell open behind his face guard. Optics stared at her in disbelief. "What?" he asked. "You want to go back… already?"

Andromeda shrugged her shoulders. "Well… yeah…"

"We don't have the means to send you back," Optimus said. "At the moment we don't have an operational ship and even if we did, it would be much too dangerous. The Decepticons would surely attack. I can not grant your request, at least not at the current moment."

Now it was Andromeda's turn to stare in disbelief. "But, uncle," she complained. "I want to be with Elita and the others!"

Optimus flinched. He turned his head away so she wouldn't see the hurt spilling forth. Maybe there was only himself to blame; after all it was _he_ who had left her with Elita four million years ago.

Realizing how hard her words struck, Andromeda reached up a hand, cupping the Autobot leader's cheek plates, bringing his gaze back toward her. "I'm sorry, uncle," she said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. As much as I've missed you and am glad to finally see you again after being apart for so long, I really have to go back. They need me there."

Optimus nodded sadly. "I guess you're right. But we can't send you back. If you want to return, Elita One and the others must come and get you."

"Is there any way to contact them?" Andromeda pressed.

"Follow me," Optimus instructed, motioning for her to follow him. Crossing the large room, the two Cybertronians walked up to the main computer, Teletraan 1. Pressing a few keys here and there, the large screen in front of them activated.

"Okay…" the Autobot leader murmured. "Let's see if this works…"

At first, static disturbance prevailed, but soon, Elita One's familiar face appeared.

"Elita!" Andromeda cried happily, inching forward.

The female Commander smiled warmly at her. "Oh, Andromeda," she said, relief and genuine care in her voice. "I'm so glad to see you're alright! We were all so worried about you!"

"I'm sorry it scared all of you but I'm fine, honestly!" Andromeda reassured. "And I can't wait to see you all again."

"Yes, we miss you too," Elita said, still smiling.

Andromeda grinned. "So… when are you coming to get me?"

Elita's beautiful faceplate frowned then. "Coming to get you?" she slowly repeated. "Andromeda… we can't come for you right now."

Andromeda's own smile vanished instantly. "What?"

"I'm so sorry," Elita said sadly. "But it's too dangerous. We only have one ship left. We can't risk losing it. Believe me when I tell you I want to come and get you, but I can't."

Andromeda stared at the screen, optics wide in shock. "But…"

"I'm sorry, Andromeda," was the repeated apology.

"Andromeda," Optimus said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I would like to talk to Elita One alone, do you mind helping Bluestreak and Jazz?"

"Yeah… sure…" Andromeda nodded, giving Elita one last sad look before heading over to the others at the other end of the room.

Optimus turned to the screen, making sure the others wouldn't be able to hear their conversation. The sight of his beloved on the screen brought much happiness and pain all at the same time. "I'm glad to see your face again, my love," he said softly.

Elita smiled warmly, slightly embarrassed. "I know," she whispered. "I'm glad to see you too."

"What should we do about Andromeda?" he asked as low as he could keep it. "She isn't safe here."

Seriousness fell over Elita's face. "I don't know, love," she answered. "I can't come and get her; the risk of an attack is too high. We can't loose the only ship we have right now."

"Yes I understand that. We can't send her back either so I guess she'll have to stay with us."

"Is that wise?" Elita asked carefully. "With the Decepticons and all, I mean."

"There's Decepticons on Cybertron too and there's no other choice left to us," Optimus pointed out.

"Yes, but the Decepticon we're thinking of is not on Cybertron anymore."

Optimus sighed. "I know…" he whispered.

"Don't worry, my love," Elita said comfortingly. "I'm sure it will be okay."

"Let's hope so," Optimus replied, hopeful.

"Unfortunately I have to go now, Optimus," Elita then said. "But I wish you all the luck with Andromeda." She chuckled, breaking the tension a little. "You're going to need it."

Optimus blinked in confusion. "What do you mean, Elita?"

Elita laughed warmly. "You'll know what I mean soon. That girl's a handful, but as long you know how to deal with her everything will turn out fine. Well then… until later, my love."

Blowing him a kiss before the transmission ended, Elita's figure quickly left and the screen darkened.

"Elita, wait!" Optimus exclaimed at the screen, the others looking in his direction, but Elita was already gone. Sighing, he looked over at Andromeda. The femme caught the leader's glance. What had been meant with Andromeda being a handful? _Well sure she had been a very… hyper… sparkling, but that was then… she was a grown up femme now. Surely she was as calm and charming as she seemed._

Oh if he only knew…

_Please feel free to leave feedback, wheter it be negative or positive, my writing can only improve with your help! :)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. Andromeda however, belongs to me and should not be used without my permission._


	6. Stranded and Unwanted

_Author's Note: Wow, I realize it has been a very, very long time since I last updated my story. I think my latest update was in December 2008. Anyhow, here it is now and I hope the ones that read it will like it. I would like to thank my friend and beta reader KayDeeBlu for her help and support :)_

_Feedback is always highly appreciated, I can only improve with your help._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. Any other character mentioned in this story belongs to me and should not be used without my permission._

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* * *

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**Torn**

Chapter Six

Looking out to the desert stretching out in front of her, Andromeda sighed deeply before glancing down at her dangling feet, the ground a long ways down.

She had positioned herself on top of one of the Ark's enormous boosters a few earth hours ago, in an attempt to get away from Prowl before he headed out on patrol. He still hadn't forgiven her for the energon incident that occurred a few days ago.

_Not my fault he can't take a joke__…_

The prank to spike the strategist's morning energon had actually been Sideswipe's idea and had sounded so perfect in her audios she hadn't been able to resist it.

Andromeda grinned mischievously. The sight of the otherwise proper and stoic Prowl so over-energized he could barely walk, or perform his duties for that matter had been hilarious – until Optimus found out it was her doing and locked her in the brig for the rest of the day that is.

Like the time when she had planted a confetti bomb inside the Command Center a few solar cycles ago when her uncle was having one of his protocol meetings with his high command.

A giggle rose in her vocalizer. Seeing her uncle and the other mechs completely all scramble for cover as the bomb exploded, completely disoriented as the multi-colored confetti burst out all over the room had been absolutely hysterical.

It had taken several Earth hours to clean it all up and Optimus had given her a reprimand that would probably last a lifetime, but in the end she was very satisfied with the result.

_It was so worth it_, she thought wickedly.

Leaning back on her arms she looked up at the shining ball high in the blue sky, the rays of sunshine warming her silver and white plating. Andromeda drew a deep breath before exhaling loudly.

_Two weeks…_

Two weeks – according to Earth time – had passed since she got here. And she was already _more than _sick of the place…

From the first minute her optics took it in, it was hated… the weather, the plant life, the different types of terrain…

But what was truly hated most about it was its inhabitants… inferior organic squishies who even seemed to think of themselves as equals to Cybertronians. _Outrageous! _

Thinking back on the first time she had met Spike, the femme smirked. Thinking it was some sort of organic vermin, she had tried stepping on him… and would've succeeded quite nicely if Bumblebee hadn't of stopped her, firmly explaining how Spike was one of their "friends".

Why her fellow Autobots would associate with such inferior creations was beyond her but what was even more difficult to grasp was why the Autobots would _befriend_ them.

She had tried to accept the irritating little flesh bag, mostly because Optimus wanted her to. But when the human started to follow her around, wanting to get to know her, limits had been reached.

After making perfectly clear to Spike accidents happen so easily and after "accidentally" almost crushing him, the message was clear and the human promptly stayed away from her there on after.

Andromeda blew out a snort. _Ah well… since I'm stranded on this accursed planet, I'd better try and make the best of it… I guess…_

Staring out over the desert landscape again, the silvery femme lost herself to her thoughts. A frown spread across her face. A few nights ago something weird started happening while recharging. Unlike humans, dreams were not a privilege to Cybertronians but it was the closest thing to describe the phenomenon happening.

Mechs and femmes she'd never met before, scenes that were too… real… for it to be called a dream. In a way… they almost felt like… memories… distant, but so strangely familiar.

Of course, that was ridiculous. Why 'dream' about something that had never happened before?

Memory banks were checked five times and all five times produced the same results – the mechs and femmes seen were not in her memory banks, nor the places or scenes. So, they were not memories. But they weren't dreams either…

Straightening up, sighing deeply, Andromeda rested her cheek against the palm of her hand. "I think I'm going crazy…" she muttered. "It must be all this organic stuff… or the weather. It is _way_ too bright on this planet… perhaps I should ask Ratchet to look for glitchmice in my CPU…"

Andromeda's thoughts were abruptly disturbed when a familiar voice called from underneath her. Looking down, Andromeda spotted Ratchet standing at the main entrance.

She frowned. _Speak of the Unmaker…_

The white medic glared at her, shaking a balled fist threateningly.

"_Andromeda, get your aft down here immediately!" _

Giving the mech a sweet, ironic smile, she called down, "But, Ratchet, I'm just enjoying the view."

"I don't care what you're doing up there, just get down!" the medic shouted. "You know Optimus' orders! You're not allowed to leave the Ark."

"Technically speaking, Ratch, I haven't exactly left it," Andromeda teased, merrily dangling her feet at him.

Ratchet looked like he was ready to dismantle her to pieces.

"_Get. Down. Now!__" _

Laughing, Andromeda rose and leapt off the Ark. Activating her anti-gravity unit, she gracefully levitated toward the ground.

"I should lock you up in the brig for your disobedience!" Ratchet threatened as she landed next to him.

Smiling charmingly at the medic, she wrapped her arms around his left arm, hugging it. "Aw, come on, Ratch! You wouldn't do that, not to your most beloved apprentice."

"You haven't been my apprentice for over four million years, Andromeda."

A mischievous grin spread across her face. "Yeah, I know, but you still love me."

Exasperation fell upon the medic. "I give up," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Now come on, we've got work to do in the repair bay."

"Sure thing, doc," Andromeda cheerfully replied, still hanging on to his arm as they moved inside the Ark.

* * *

Halfway to the repair bay, coming across Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, Andromeda stopped as Sideswipe gave her a very human high-five, both grinning widely. Sunstreaker winked at the medic before abruptly disappearing behind them.

Ratchet glanced at the femme, knowing it was bad news for him and the rest of the Autobots. Silently, he prayed he would not be the butt of whatever prank was brewing in her logic circuits this time.

"What was that for?" he asked suspiciously when they reached the repair bay.

Pure innocence stared back at him as the door opened.

"What do you mean?"

Ratchet's optics narrowed as he glared at her, his look conveying more than a thousand words. She started to laugh as she realized her cover had been blown.

"Believe me, Ratchet," she said softly, a spark of amusement suddenly lighting up her blue optics. "You've got nothing to worry about." She grinned. "At least not for today…"

Ratchet stared at her as she started to mop the floor, humming happily to herself. "Well that's good to know…" he muttered.

* * *

Andromeda leaned back in her chair, looking over the corner in the common room, enjoying the cube of high grade in her hands. Just like her, several Autobots were enjoying their time off as their patrols and other duties had ended for the day.

At a table across the room sat Trailbreaker along with the twins, Bumblebee, and Ironhide. At another table not too far from hers sat the rest of the minibots. There was no sight of Optimus Prime or Prowl, but Andromeda knew it was because they were busy inside the Command Center.

She turned her head to the young gunner sitting in front of her on the other side of the table. A mischievous smirk formed on her lips as she watched the slightly over-energized mech.

"How's it going there, Blue?" she asked, trying to stifle a laugh when he knocked over the half full cube he was reaching for, the purplish pink fluid dripping onto the floor. Bluestreak never really could hold his energon.

Bluestreak looked up, his blue optics shining groggily at her. "Hey, Andromeda," he said, slurring slightly. "How come…" He hiccupped. "… how come you're not over-energized?"

She giggled. "Oh, I'm over-energized, Blue, but not as much as you."

The young gunner rubbed his temple seemingly deep in thought, swaying a little in his chair. "But you…" Another hiccup interrupted him. "But you have drunk more than I have."

Andromeda emptied the last of her cube, placing it on the table. "Yep, I have," she answered, her own optics gleaming. Not that she was much better when it came to drinking, she just concealed it better, although her CPU was feeling dimmed anyways.

Ratchet sat down next to her, a disapproving glance on him. "Maybe you should take it a little easy, Andromeda?"

"Bah! This is nothing," she scoffed, but her voice was starting to slur.

If optics could've rolled, Ratchet's would have. Instead he muttered a few words in their native Cybertronian tongue, the words making her grin wider. He took a swig of his one cube, relishing the burning sensation the high-grade was sending through his circuits.

The three Cybertronians looked up when a very cheerful Jazz slumped down in a chair next to Bluestreak. "What's up, guys?" he asked, smiling widely at the three.

"Hey, Jazz," Andromeda replied. Ratchet simply nodded.

The saboteur looked at the young gunner, who was now leaning over the table, face buried against his arm. "How are you doing, man?" he asked warmly.

Bluestreak groaned. "I've been better…"

Andromeda laughed. "Come on now, Blue! Don't be such a weakling, have another cube!"

Bluestreak's optics traveled from the cube she stretched out to him and then to her grinning faceplate. "You think I'm a…" He hiccupped. "… weakling, Andromeda?" he said, hurt clear in his voice. "I know I'm not a hero like Prime or as brave as Jazz or strong as Ironhide, but I don't think I'm…"

Another hiccup.

"… weak."

"I think you're very over-energized, Bluestreak," Andromeda replied sarcastically. She then smiled. "And I think you're absolutely adorable."

The hurt on his faceplate was immediately replaced with a smile that seemed to threaten to crack his faceplate in two. "You really think I'm adorable?"

Optic ridges lifted, a wide smile on her lips. "Oh, yes," she answered.

"Hey!" Jazz then said. "What about us?" He pointed at Ratchet and then himself. "I think we're pretty adorable too!"

"Yeah, you maybe," Andromeda answered the saboteur and then gave Ratchet an evil smirk. "But I don't know about this mech here."

In response Ratchet smacked the back of her head.

Rubbing her head while muttering a few Cybertronian curses, Andromeda's attention was drawn to the table where the minibots sat. Feeling their intense stares, she glared back at them.

Cliffjumper smirked and then turned to whisper something to Brawn while casting evil glances every once in a while. Brawn smirked too and turned to look at the femme. Brawn said something to Cliffjumper while keeping his optics on her, the red minibot bursting out into a mocking laughter – at her expense she figured.

Andromeda felt her body temperature rise with anger and humiliation, her balled fists shaking. By Primus, she hated that minibot. Ever since she got here to Earth, he had done his best to provoke her and now she had reached her limit. Enough was enough.

"Ignore them, Andromeda," Jazz said lowly, giving the femme a cautious glare.

"They're not worth it," Ratchet filled in, placing a calming hand on her shoulder.

Slapping his hand away, Andromeda rose from her chair, ignoring Jazz and Ratchet's dissuading words. Bluestreak grabbed her wrist as she rounded the table; the young gunner looked at her pleadingly.

"Don't, Andromeda," he said softly. "Let's just drink and have fun, alright?"

The glower she gave him was so cold it could have frozen the energon running through his fuel lines.

"Bluestreak," she said sternly. "Let go. _Now._"

Bluestreak's grip on her wrist loosened as she yanked free. Giving the three of them a last glare she headed over to the minibots' table.

Stopping in front of them, she straightened herself up, placing her hands on her hips. "Okay, Cliffjumper," she said, high enough for everyone to turn their attention to them. "What the slag is your problem?"

Complete silence fell upon the common room. The mechs froze as they watched the event with growing curiosity and anxiety.

Cliffjumper smirked at her. "I don't know what you're talking about, Andromeda," he answered, his vocalizer practically dripping with disdain. Brawn chuckled.

Andromeda frowned, her blue optics, cold as ice, narrowing. "Oh, you know perfectly well what I'm talking about," she seethed. "For as long as I can remember you've hated me and I want to know why. _Why_ do you hate me, Cliffjumper? What have I ever done to you?"

Ratchet leaned closer to Jazz. "Go get Prime," he said lowly. "Right now."

The saboteur nodded and got up, quickly leaving the room.

The red minibot got up from his chair, glaring up at the taller femme. "Do you really want to know why?" he said smirking. "Why don't you go and ask your uncle then?"

Andromeda's frown grew bigger. "What is that suppose to mean?"

"As I said… go ask your uncle."

Andromeda snorted. "You're so full of slag," she said, turning to head back to Ratchet and the others.

"Oh yeah, turn away," Cliffjumper called after her, in the same moment as Optimus and Jazz entered the room. "Just like that treacherous mother of yours!"

"_Cliffjumper!!_" Ratchet bellowed furiously, but the damage had already been done.

Several gasps and then silence followed the red minibots comment. Cliffjumper stared terrified at Optimus, who was still standing in the doorway, apparently too shocked to move.

"Oh, no…" Bluestreak whispered horrified, suddenly very sober as he watched what was happening.

Andromeda had stopped in her tracks. Slowly she turned to face the minibot, a look of deep confusion on her faceplate. "What did you just say about my mother?" she whispered.

"I… I…" Cliffjumper stammered nervously, his optics going from Optimus to Andromeda.

Andromeda spun around to face Optimus. "What the frag did he mean by that, uncle? Why did he call my mother treacherous?"

Optimus stared at his niece as she walked up to him, not knowing what to say to repair the damage Cliffjumper had caused. "I…" he finally said, stretching his arms out toward her. "I don't know… Andromeda…"

Pushing past him, Andromeda stormed down the hall toward her quarters.

Optimus turned to the red minibot. "What have you done?" he whispered, his tone both angry and fearful.

"_What have you done?"_

* * *

Deep down on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, peaceful serenity existed. Nothing but water… a dark, quiet world.

The Control Room was empty, save for one mech.

The tall, silvery Cybertronian stared at the large computer screen on the wall, a map being projected over a part of land across the screen. A tiny red light was blinking softly on the screen.

The mech stroked his metallic chin thoughtfully while staring at the computer screen.

That was when he felt it.

_His spark shifted__…_

The movement was so small it could've easily gone unnoticed, but the mech had felt it as much as if someone had punched him in the face.

His optics never left the red light… the new Cybertronian energy signature their main computer had picked up around two earth weeks ago.

In the beginning he hadn't been sure if the new energy signature belonged to the one he was thinking of, but now…

_It had to be…_

The double doors to the Control Room slid open and another mech entered. The navy blue mech saluted his leader and then walked to stand by his side.

A scarlet visor looked up at the screen, fixating on the blinking red light. "Is the source of the energy signature detected?" the monotonic voice asked, breaking the silence.

The silver mech kept staring at the screen. _Yes… he was certain of it…_

Tearing his red optics from the computer screen, he looked at the Communications Officer. "Yes, Soundwave," the mech answered. "It's the person we're thinking of."

The navy blue mech nodded silently. "Your orders?"

"We attack Autobot Headquarters in the morning," the silvery mech answered, turning his optics to look at the screen again. Once more he felt his spark shift ever so slightly.

"Yes, Megatron."


End file.
